The job
by MadEva
Summary: A job gone wrong. Connor hurt! What happened? Why did it go wrong? Hurt Connor, lots of bad words and Rocco!
1. Chapter 1

_Disclamier: I do not own Bds or any of the characters in it. I might own some characters after a while. Depending on where this story is going. As of now I do not know. _

_A/U: Hello people. Huge BDS fan. Thought I'd try to write one myself. Dunno how it'll work out. So be nice. Hehe. Or be really mean=P. If anyone gets any ideas or anything they want in the story, lemme know;) _

It was a cold and dark night. The moon was barely showing as the clouds had gathered for a meeting. No stars were showing. Down in the streets though, there were lights. High poles of steel were lighting up the road for everyone and no one.

The only sounds heard was the low humming of cars. Somewhere a rowdy cat made his matingcall, sadly there was no one to answer his frustrated call. Nature was cruel that night. Very few people was out at this time of hour. Those few souls walking the streets, where just shadows. Jackets covering them up. Shoes muffeling the sound of their feet.

A quiet night. Just the cat and the cars, at times the sound of footprints.

Only one sound broke the solace at times. A low moaning in an empty alley somewhere in a bad neighbourhood. A sound so low, it was would have been impossible to hear if it had come in the busy daylight.

Behind a dumpster in a dark alley somewhere, a shadow of a person could be seen. Slumped against the wall. His head lulling on his chest, as all strength had left him. If he was alive, there were few signs to show it. The slow and short rise of his chest would not have been detected in the darkness.

Eyes barely open. So little strength left that he could not muster a call for help. Not even if his life depended on it, and it did. His arms were hanging loosley by his side. In his right a rosary was held. One of a pair. It was darkened with blood now. Precious life-giving liquid. But the darkness covered that as well.

For a while he had tried to call for help. But his moans had long been silenced. Only by share will was he still awake.

At one point during the night a man had heard him. Someone had heard the sound of the dying man as he passed by. For a moment he had stopped. For a moment he had considered helping.

But this person was not a man with a heart. Thinking it was a bum, he ignored the sounds of pain and walked by. The person in the alley would soon have all his troubles blown away, he thought. And walked on. Never to think back on that night.

Back in the alley the beaten man drew a shaky breath. The shadow of a smile crossed his face. He had done his bidding. He had done Gods will. He had no regrets in life.

Then, just before darkness claimed him, a singel tear tore away from his eye. Yes, he had one regret. That he would not be able to tell his brother goodbye.

In nomine patri, et file, spiritus sancti, was Connor MacManus's last thought, before he lost his hold of concisness.

Just a moment to late his phone rang. The screen showing the name "Murph", but not showing the worried face on the other side.


	2. Chapter 2

"Fuck", Murphy swore out loud, as his call went to voicemail for the fifth time. "Fuck me". Where the fuck was Connor? They were suppose to meet up an hour ago. It's wasn't like his brother to be late. It wasn't like him to be on time either.

He should have known that splitting up would be a mistake. They rarely did it. They stayed together. They had each others back. They had always had each others backs. Fuck, why had they split up?

Had the situation been different, they would not have done it. But one thing led to another. It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

Murphy lit another sigarett. He had almost smoked a whole pack already. It had to be some sort of a record, he thought, as his fingers automaticly dialed the number once more. And once more getting nowhere.

The darker haired twin thought for a second, before deciding. Somthing was wrong. He could feel it. Something was very wrong. Since the day they were born they had always been able to tell when the other one was in trouble. Most of the time it was a good thing. Other times, one comming to aid the other, had only gotten them in more trouble.

He snorted out a laugh as he thought of the times their mother had cought them. Both getting a fair beating, even though one had nothing to do with the childish crime.

As Murphy made his way back to the place where it had all gone down, he felt the hairs on his back rise even more. He shivered and hurried his pace. Maybe he should have called someone. Who the fuck would he have called, he though. Doc? Rocco? Naah, Doc was to old. Rocco was probably drunk.

Connor and he had handled themselves for a long time. If something was wrong, he could handle this as well.

Getting closer to the building, he tried to orient himself as to which way his brother might have taken. He himself had come out of the front door. He cursed at himself for not making a note of what path the other had taken.

Jogging around the building he only came to a stop as he saw a fire escape. He looked up, trying to decide if this was leading from the room they had been in. Or at least from the floor. Looking closer he saw blood smeared on the last few steps. He felt his mouth go dry.

Someone was hurt. And that someone might be Connor. If it was, then he couldn't be far. He looked around, eyes wide, trying to get in as much light as possible. The road behind the building went in two directions. Something told him to go right.

He went left. No, he ran. Like the devil was on his back. At the same time he got his phone to his ear. A tired voice answered, he almost screamed the streetname, before hanging up. Praying, as he had done so many times the last hour, but this time he prayed for Rocco to be solber enough to have heard him. To have understod him.

His eyes were everywhere, as he ran. Not wanting to miss a sign. There had to be a sign. Even in the dark. He nearly stumbled in his own feet as he came to a halt in front of an alley. Something had cought his eye.

Blood. There was blood on the wall. It could only be his brothers. Smeared in a cross. A sign ment only for him.

Slowly, he made his way into the alley. Nearly tripping as he kicket something sticking out from behind the dumpster. It took him a few seconds before seeing the man sitting there, slumped agains the wall. His face as well as his jacket covered in blood.

His breath hitched as he knelt down beside his brother. Trembling hands cupping his jaw, two fingers pressing down hard on his neck. A shuddered breath escaped his lungs, as he bent his head and prayed.

A few minutes later, his phone rang.

"What the fuck is going on", Roccos voice asked. "What the fuck did you wake me for? I'm the fucking street, where the fuck are you?".

"Rocco", Murphy inerrupted. "Go left, stop when you see an alley, I'm there. Connors hurt. Bad". Then he hung up and cradled his brothers head in his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/U: Hey guys. Thanks for the reviews. They make my heart flutter3 Hoho. Anyways. Sorry about being shitty at updating. And for my bad spelling^_^. I'm using a dictionary, but it doesn't seem to help. Mohahaha. **

**Madreloca: It's would seem that you will have to put your tattoo on hold;). **

**Disclaimer: Don't own. Yadayadayada. But then again. Troy Duffy dosen't own them either, as he sold the rights to the first movie. So there ya go! **

**Will be even worse at updating as I am moving atm. **

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_Everything was blurry. His eyes seemed clouded. He shook his head, trying to make out what he was seeing, without success. Where was he? What was going on?_

_Suddenly he was standing in front of three men. One was on his knees. The two others where standing over him, guns in hand, poiting at the back of the kneeling mans head. They were saying something. Ranting perhaps. He could not make out the words. He could not even make out their faces. _

_The only thing he could see clearly was the fear in the eyes of the man on the ground. Two guns went of at once. Somewhat muffled, though. The man slumped forward. His body twisting slightly as death grabbed hold of him. _

_One of the men kneeled before him. He found himself on his knees as well. Like he did not have a choice. Two coins where presented and put in the eyes of the dead man in front of him. _

_He lifted his head for a moment, not wanting to see. His eyes widened as he did. Three men were entering the room. Guns drawn. He wanted to scream at the two in front of him. The shooters. Somehow he knew, that they where the good once. _

_He screamed, but no sound came._

_Luckely it seemed as though the two men had heard the others, or felt their presence. As they simultaneously turned around, guns drawn. _

_Bullets where flying. He was standing in the middle of it. He could not move, it seemed. Shock on his face. Though no-one seemed to notice. No-one seemed to notice him. Not even the bullets, flying through him. _

_He saw the blond one of the two scream something at the other, pointing to another door. The darker haired nodded. Then he ran, guns still firing behind him. _

_He wanted to follow. Make sure that this man was alright. But something kept him there, in the room._

_Suddenly he lurched forward. Pain ripping through his shoulder. He looked down and saw blood seeping out. He looked behind him, and saw that the other man with one arm hanging limply at his side. _

_It was then it occured to him. He was that man. _

_He could not leave himself. He had to follow. _

_The next parts where even more blurried. Climbing out a window. Feeling another bullet mutelate his body as he climbed the fire-escape. _

_Running._

_Falling to the ground. Something dripping down his face._

_Running._

_Then darkness._

Somewhere in a shitty apartment Connor screamed as his body tossed in bed. Confused eyes opened and met with another pair of blue eyes.

"S alright Conn, ye'r home".

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a shaky breath.

Connor lifted one arm and landed it on his brothers shoulder. At once feeling the other mans hand on his.

"Fuck", he said after a while. "Thought I'd died and gone ta hell".

Murphy snorted. The quickly grabbed the sigarett that almost fell from behin his ear.

Connor did not respond. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep. Giving his beaten body just what it needed. This time he dreamt of whiskey and pizza. Of a hairy man, looking kinda like Jesus, and a cat being shot to bloody hell.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry about the late update folks! I just moved and started university. So I hope I'm forgivven!**

**Again: I do not now where this story is going. I have no plan and no muse=P. So be kind and gentle;). Hihi. **

**Have a good one!**

**BTW: Timeline: It has to be after they become the saints. But I love Rocco, so I wouldn't think to much about the timeline;). **

Connor woke with a start. Someone was in the apartment. He made a quick grab for his gun and launched himself of the sofa he had been lying on. A soft thud was heard as he landed on the floor. He grunted at the impact.

The blond man did not have time to think about all the places that hurt, before a sound came from behind him. For a moment he let himself listen.

Someone was laughing. It was a laugh he knew all to well.

He put his gun down in defeat and rolled over on the other side, where he had a clear view. Only a few feet away his twin brother was standing. Laughing so hard that choking noices came from his throat.

"Fuck you"! Connor nearly shouted as he tried to maneuver himself back up on the couch. Murphy moved fast when he saw the struggel. Took a good hold of his brother and heaved him back up. Still laughing.

"Fuck! Ye shuld have seen yerself! On... the... couch... watching DAYS OF OUR LIFE!" The last part came out in a fit of laughter.

"I wasn't watching! I fell asleep during a very cool show! Alright!" 

"We'll se about that, then" Murphy answered and picked up the TV-magasin. Two seconds later he almost toppled over laughing. "Fucking Opera!"

"Fuck ye". Connor shouted tossing a pillow at the darker man. Wincing as he did and trying to hold back a grunt of pain, but failed.

Murphy heard it, and immidiatly he stopped laughing as he saw a small red stain growing on his brothers torso. A seriousness came about him and he quickley moved to Connors side.

"Ye're bleeding again, lemme see", he demanded.

"So what's the verdic, doctor MacManus, will I live?" Connor said it with a glimer of humour across his face.

"Ye, just tore at ye're stiches a bit".

Murphy helped Connor to get comfy again, patted his knee and turned to the TV. For a while the only thing heard was the TV.

"Fuck, were ye accually watching this shit?" Murphy eyes was wide as he wiped his nose with his right hand. When no reply came from his brother he turend his head to the side.

"Hello, earth te Conn, are ye there?" He waved his hand in front of the other mans eyes.

Connor blinked twice, shook his head and turned to Murphy. He looked like a child with a secret, ready to burst. Almost not able to sit still on the couch.

"It was a fucking set-up!" He almost screamed. "It have ta have been a fucking setup!"

"The fuck ye talking about, Conn?"

"The job! Think about it; Why the fuck would they leave the boss te himself. Why didn't they come out right away and help him. It had ta be a trap!"

"Mmm, aye, maybe. But fucking why? And who?"

"That's what what ye'r gonna have ta find out, my dear brother" Connor said and blinked.

"And why the fuck me?"

Connor put up a sad face. " Cause I've got booboos and need a nap". He swung his legs up on the couch and put one arm over his eyes. A few minutes later, light snoring could be heard.

Murphy just shook his head and turned of the TV.


End file.
